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>prev post edit:
>"schedule A STREETCUT druggs"
>bcuz of COURZ a Goblin won't chuck a brick of pure Hearse Powda inna well, don't be DUM
Yer goin innada Plague Town Skirtz to take your red harvest, an wiv yez shivvy Dagga (+10dmg) and dis roit noice pokeysicky you found inna Pit workshed (+4dmg; swapped from shoddy ax; -2§ for the swap), you finna gibb the <span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-r">lot</span></span>.
>rolled 1d1000 = 931 vs YDM DC680
>PASS; no bonuses for this roll
You feel a kindy creepy feelz when you go to do the Ceremony today. Gui Li's been acting uppity lately, taking so demn long to appear for the Ceremony, trying to get in your sleeps, suddenly peeking out behind a tree or sumn when finna pee. Youre a pretty cool gobb for the most part, a real catch among gobbs if you forget modesty and go honesty; bich just don't know how good she got. She should be fuggen grateful it's you.
You give the altar your best bullybugg glare before you start.
>yez wantz summat?
>eh, Gooly?
>jez sezzit
>gwan, sezzit
>I dare ye bich
You raise your gobby backhand. Your fingers still have of yez shidd onna, and you torq your waist and leave your shoulders limber, ready to land a reel head-spinneren PEE-EM PSCHLAPP, damp crudd, no talcum.
>shew yer mugg right now sezzit
>I dubbz n tribbz dare ye mogg bich
>yez bedder nat sez wat I finks ye gonnae ya kunt
>but sezzit, gwan
>GWAN!!
The creepicreepi fades. Whether it's your unchartable Goblin (Cha)Rizz(ma) (defined by DnD as Strength of Personality), or a manner of Intellect beyond the lower limits of most standardized tests, you are just too tuff, and Gui Li (still, somehow) not <span class="mu-r">furious</span> enough.
>yerr, fott so.
><span class="mu-i">fott</span> so.
>rmember ooz 'ole ye ar bich
>yool be here till yer dedder den dedd
>yez bezt get used to gedden used
>gnehh heh heh
>now gedd ovah n bendovah
>time fer yer (simbolly) pluppy pluggs!
Because pluppen a bich is not all jezt about preggen 'er n ploppen moar gobbs and biggerin' yer Mobz, it's also about bullybuggen.
Watchermacall mindbreaken. Dispiriten discouragen n soulcrushen. In a sterile (whatever <span class="mu-i">that</span> means) way, it's almost as satisfying as actually pluppen 'er pre-pubey yum-yumz. Wadevah her dum name was before this.
You do the Ceremony, no trouble. Bich still made you wait an hour though. You're kindy used to it now, just like she is to your impudent trumpetty little <span class="mu-g">prap</span> at the altar before you leave.
>Fugg you lader bich
>jez touchy self n thinky me till ven
>gnehh heh heh
You don't tell Seafood before you head off; he's still meditating cradling the Big 'At Whitey's skull. You're sure he can take care of a whole squad of Humie sorders by hisself, no trouble, even in the chalky crumbly lil girl body.
You'll holler 'im when you got gibbs for his brekkies.
